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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686604">to hold, to keep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreybrew/pseuds/earlgreybrew'>earlgreybrew</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Vesperia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreybrew/pseuds/earlgreybrew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall, Flynn finds himself frequenting an empty room in the Lower Quarter.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Not for clearing up,” he’d promised, and then more gently, “He’ll be home before you know it.”</p>
  <p>Flynn wishes he had Hanks’s confidence.</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>78</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>to hold, to keep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s long past dusk when Flynn gets to Yuri’s room. His body deflates unceremoniously as soon as he’s settled at the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands. He’s just gotten back from a three-day-long boat voyage where he’d spent hours upon hours scanning the ocean’s waters only to come back home empty-handed—again. He tries to ignore the hollow feeling growing in his chest, partly stemmed from the fruitlessness of his efforts, but mostly from the gaping absence of the room’s usual occupant.</p>
<p>It’s been nearly two weeks since Yuri fell from Zaude, and no one’s managed to find a trace of him anywhere.</p>
<p>Flynn stops himself from thinking of the worst.</p>
<p>Sighing, he lifts his face from his palms and lets his eyes sweep over Yuri’s room in an effort to distract himself from the morbid thoughts circulating through his head. It’s not the tidiest, but it’s kept a lot better than he would’ve imagined. There are items strewn across the small space, some of which he recognises, like the sword strapped onto the wall by the bed.</p>
<p>It’s an old blade that’s worn-out ages ago—Flynn wouldn’t be surprised if the cloth wrapped around it is the only thing that’s keeping it from falling apart—but it used to be the prized weapon they’d shared when they were young, bought by coins they’d set aside from months of odd jobs and skipped meals. They’d only ever had enough to afford one at the time, and Flynn smiles in memory of the squabbles they had over whose turn it was to use it.</p>
<p>Thoughts shifting, he absently wonders what Yuri would think of him being here without permission or invitation. He’s not the type of person to trespass, but when he came to share news of Yuri’s disappearance with the residents of the Lower Quarter a week ago, Hanks had taken one look at him and shoved the key into his hand.</p>
<p>“Not for clearing up,” he’d promised, and then more gently, “He’ll be home before you know it.”</p>
<p>Flynn wishes he had Hanks’s confidence. His own has been diminishing over the past couple of days, each failed expedition chipping away at its corners.</p>
<p>Despite the man’s knowledge of their childhood and close relationship, Flynn’s pretty sure that handing over his tenant’s key counts as a major breach of privacy and trust (not to mention the numerous laws it breaks), but he’s grateful for it nonetheless. There’s something about being in Yuri’s room that helps ground him, that keeps him tethered even when his sanity’s been stretched thin from weeks of unsuccessful searching, its last threads taut and ready to snap. The layers of fear and panic that pile within him are abated by the illogical belief that Yuri may somehow pop his head through the door at any moment, like he’d never been gone in the first place.</p>
<p>The feeling is foolish at best, but it soothes the ache that’s made a home beneath Flynn’s breastbone since the fall, and at this point, he gladly takes what solace he can get.</p>
<p>Just as he’s eyeing the wooden door, the handle suddenly turns and Flynn freezes.</p>
<p>The hope that surges through him dies almost instantaneously when he sees the tuft of long, white hair and red eyes that emerge—it’s not Yuri. It’s the nebulous man who appeared at Ghasfarost and Baction, the wielder of Dein Nomos. Yuri had called him Duke, if Flynn recalls correctly.</p>
<p>Flynn’s about to ask him what he’s doing here when he notices that the man is carrying something in his arms. Whatever it is, it’s suspiciously large and wrapped heavily in blankets, and as Flynn inspects it from afar, the cloth shifts, some of it unravelling and—</p>
<p>Flynn’s heart lurches to his throat.</p>
<p>He’d recognise those raven locks anywhere.</p>
<p>Duke is saying something but Flynn can’t make out the words over the blood rushing through his ears. Gaze tunnelled in on the limp body before him, he doesn’t even realise that he’s moving till he’s pressed against the bundle, arms outstretched and reaching beneath it.</p>
<p>Flynn only catches his breath when he feels the weight in his arms, and the movement of the exchange has Yuri’s head tilting into his shoulder. Yuri looks awful—he appears battered and worn and his complexion’s multiple shades off, but his body is warm and breathing and <em>alive</em> and that’s all that matters. Flynn chokes back a sob as relief washes over him and he cradles the package carefully, clinging to it like a lifeline, like it’s precious and irreplaceable and—<em>everything</em>.</p>
<p>And, it is, he realises. For better or worse, Yuri has become his whole world.</p>
<p>Duke’s deep tenor draws him back to the present. “His wounds are grave—he will need time to recover.”</p>
<p>Flynn can still hear the violent drumming of his own heartbeat as he gently pulls the fabric back. Yuri’s body is peppered with bruises—from the last battle or from being adrift at sea, Flynn’s not sure—but there must be worse injuries because his lower torso is covered in bandages. It seems like Duke’s taken care of most of it with basic treatment, but Flynn’s already casting First Aid, the spell rapidly rolling off his tongue. He makes a mental note to get Lady Estellise to have a look later, too. He’s not willing to take any chances.</p>
<p>Flynn lifts his gaze back up. “How did you—”</p>
<p>“He had something of mine,” Duke says, pulling out a maroon blade from his robes. “I couldn’t afford to have Dein Nomos lost to the seas.”</p>
<p>When Duke doesn’t elaborate, Flynn gathers that it’s all the explanation he’s going to get, but honestly it doesn’t matter. None of that matters right now.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Flynn rasps out, voice thick with emotion, and he vaguely registers the dampness on his cheeks as he says it. Under normal circumstances, his pride wouldn’t allow it, but at this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. Of all things that have happened, him crying in front of a stranger is the least of his worries. “Thank you,” he repeats, because he <em>means</em> it. He’s never been more grateful in his life.</p>
<p>Duke just gives a terse nod in response. “When he’s awake, it may be in his interest to have a look at this.” The man deposits a green book on the shelf by the door, and then leaves without another word. The door clicks shut behind him.</p>
<p>Flynn silently thanks him again before he turns his attention to the body in his arms. He watches the steady rise and fall of Yuri’s chest as he cards his hand through silky, black hair, and allows himself to relax as he takes it all in. He’s still crying, tears rolling endlessly down his cheeks like a dam’s been broken, but that’s okay. That’s okay.</p>
<p>For the first time in nearly a fortnight, Flynn feels like he can breathe again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I haven't written in nearly four years,,,,,, I can't believe I've been summoned out of my old, crusty shell by a pair of emotionally constipated dorks. Warily eyes the growing number of WIPs in my folders since I finished the game... Powerful... Fluri is... Powerful.......</p>
<p>Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are highly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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